


The Journey

by Teroni51



Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 2 (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-06-20 13:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15535419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teroni51/pseuds/Teroni51
Summary: My take on what happened to Sparrow after they return from the Spire, up to their death.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this began because I got annoyed that if you played as a male character you couldn't offer to date Rupert, you still had to go to Bowerstone and find him a date. Then I started thinking about what would happen between Fable 2 and Fable 3 and eventually I just started writing it down. So this is completely my take, just based on a playthrough I did and is mainly to get the story out of my head. Any mistakes you notice, please let me know.

The sound of the waves hitting the shore and the smell of the trees and fields, even with his eyes closed these feelings revealed that he was free. That this wasn’t a desperate dream his subconscious had created to try and distance itself from the horror that had been the Spire and the evil that had occurred there. This was real and nothing had ever felt so good. He opened his eyes to see the shore of Oakfield growing ever closer. His thoughts turned towards Bowerstone, towards where his children and wife had been living when he left. Would they still be there? The children would have grown up, no longer the toddler and new born he’d left. Amy would be nearly 13 now and Jack would be nearer to 10 than the few months old he’d been, he’d have no memories of Sparrow, Amy was unlikely to have more than one or two. Movement to his left pulled his attention back to the present and the boat. Garth moved further into view.

“Planning for the future?” The will-user questioned.

“Merely wondering after my family. 10 years is a long time to be away when children are small.” He replied.

“I will take your word for it.” Garth retorted. 

“No family then? A scholar at heart?” Sparrow said it with a light air, aware of how touchy the man seemed to be. 

“Focusing on the secrets of the ancient world instead of helping to contribute to an already over-populated world seemed a better use of my time, yes.” Both men fell silent, neither voicing the almost pity they felt for the other man’s situation. Sparrow broke the silence. 

“How long till we stop?” He queried. 

“Only a few more minutes, I came here to warn you that the crew wish to start preparing. We should stay out of the way.” Sparrow nodded his agreement and moved back towards the cabin. 

 

Walking from the dock onto the beach of Oakfield, Sparrow took the first deep he felt he had since leaving Westcliffe ten years ago. He and Garth watched as the boat sailed away.

“I thought I would never see land again, I thank you for your help.” Sparrow nodded. “Another friend of yours?” Garth remarked, pulling Sparrows attention to the familiar shape of Sir Woof bounding towards him. He moved gently towards the dog, unsure if after all this time Sir Woof would still remember him. The enthusiastic leap the dog gave and the subsequent licks he received put that worry to rest. 

“OK, ok down you crazy dog.” He ruffled the fur around Sir Woof’s neck. “I missed you too.” He looked up to where Theresa stood patiently. His emotions about the women were mixed. Anger that she had sent him into a situation that had taken years from him, but at the same time he understood that it had been necessary to save Garth. Time would only tell if saving Garth would be worth it. 

“Your furry friend has been coming here every day for a week. He knew that you would return, victorious, even before I did. Ten years… welcome back my friend. You have done the impossible.” Garth made his way to push past the blind seer. 

“And Garth, I welcome you too.”

“Welcome me? You’re in my way, so please step aside.”

“You know much about the Old Kingdom, enough to know that you cannot destroy the Spire alone. We share a common aim. All I ask is that you listen to what we have to offer you.” Sparrow expected Garth to just push her aside, from the little he knew of the man, he didn’t seem the type to work well with others. Sparrow fully expected to spend more time trying to convince him. But either gratitude from his rescue or the strange way Theresa had of making everyone go along with her plans even when you knew they seemed almost suicidal had the will user agreeing. 

“All right, I’ll listen. But I promise nothing.” Theresa turned to Sparrow.

“I will go with Garth. Hammer is at the inn in Rookridge. You should see her before we talk again, she’ll be overjoyed to know you’re back. Oh and here, you’ll want this.” She gestured to the bag sat on the floor beside her. She turned back to the will user and held out her hand. “Take my hand Garth, we have a great deal to discuss.”

“Do I have any choice?” He remarked, but reached for her hand anyway. Blinding lights danced around them as they disappeared. Sparrow moved to the bag, amazed to find all his old clothes and equipment in remarkable shape despite the years of inactivity. Pulling on his old clothes felt strange. They didn’t fit right anymore, bagging around him where he’d lost the weight. Even strapping on his sword and gun felt bizarre after ten years of not having a weapon. His disobedience had ensured that he was not trusted with one. His gaze fell to the broken collar that now sat on top of the bag. He wasn’t sure what to do with it, part of him wanted to throw it back into the sea, never thinking of it again. But the larger part wanted to keep it, to keep the reminder that he had not been broken. That everything they had put him through had not changed who he was, that he could still call himself a good man. He ran his hand absentmindedly through Sir Woof’s fur. After 10 years the freedom to go where he wanted seemed almost overwhelming and a thousand places he wanted to go fought through his mind. 

“Rookridge first, I think.” He said to the dog. “See what Hammer’s been up to whilst I’ve been away. Then home.” He paused thinking of his wife. “Here’s hoping Alex leaves enough of me alive that this will all be worth it.” An excited bark was his only reply. 

 

If Oakfield had seemed bigger, new houses having sprung up with the temple having expanded, Rookridge was almost reassuring in the fact it hadn’t changed. Still wet, still plenty of tight roads. No bandits or Hobbes this time, but something told him that would only be a matter of time. The inn looked better though, less depressing with flowers growing around it. Nice to see that someone other than a bandit had brought it. He’d barely walked through the door when a voice rang out. 

“If I didn’t know better… It is you!” Leaning on the bar stood Hammer, bottle in hand. He missed her next sentence as Sir Woof pushed passed to jump on her. “Man… you look good considering. I can’t believe it…you’re really here!” She took a swing from her bottle before thumping it down on the bar. “You did it, you rescued Garth. Took your sweet time alright but you did it.” This brought a laugh from Sparrow. Only Hammer would complain that he’d been taking his time. “I never gave up hope. Kind of hard to, when everyday someone’s whispering in your head about their “visions of the Hero’s safe return”.” Sparrow winced at the Hero title. It was never one that had sat well with him, now more than ever. Hammer continued on, apparently having missed the reaction or maybe to change the topic because of it. “Honestly, there were a few times there I wanted to smack Theresa. Anyway, welcome back.”

“Thanks Hammer.” Sparrow replied quietly. He moved towards the bar.

“So what was it like in there? As horrible as I imagined?” His silence must have been all the answer she needed. “Well, never mind. I’ll find out myself soon enough. We’re back in business.” 

“No Hammer.” Sparrow interrupted. 

“What?” 

“I’ve just lost 10 years of my life. I didn’t get to watch my kids grow up, I have no idea if they even know who I am. I don’t know who I am right now. I’ve spent the last 10 years with an electric collar charging every time I tried to be myself. I’ve had ten years of being amongst the worst of humanity. I want the chance to reclaim myself. I want to remember who Sparrow is, before the Hero takes over again.” Hammer was quiet for a moment. 

“How long do you need? Only I’m meeting someone who might have information on… you know, our number three.” Sparrow sighed. 

“I want a month. Go to your meeting, get the information. But I want a month.”

“Alright.” She paused again, as if gathering herself. “You should go, you have things to do, people to see. I’ll let Theresa know what I find, then she’ll call you when it’s time.” She moved towards the door. “Oh and welcome back…I’ve missed you. I’m glad that day at the docks wasn’t our last goodbye.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparrow arrives home to find not everything was as he left it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you those of you who gave me kudos, you are literally the only reason I have manage to write this. Also please point out any errors I've made and feel free to comment.

Sparrow had never been so glad to see Bowerstone. Evidently 10 years of working at the Spire meant that he was no longer able to trek across the country as he once had. 15 hours of walking had exhausted him. The previsions he had brought at the inn before leaving hadn’t even lasted half his journey. 

“I don’t remember this being so difficult.” He panted, sat on the bench just outside town. If he was honest it wasn’t just exhaustion stopping him from the last few minutes of his journey. Fear played a large part. It was difficult enough to know that the children wouldn’t remember him, but he wasn’t ready to see how much he’d missed. Alex’s reaction terrified him just as much. His wife was many things but there was a limit to how far you could stretch a person’s patience. He ran his hand again through the ruff on Sir Woof’s neck. The dog hadn’t gone far from him the entire journey. Maybe it was just his age, Sir Woof was now 12 and a half; the offspring of the original dog that brought Theresa to him, or it was just that he’d missed him but he had not run of exploring as he used to when they walked. Even now, he sat with his head on Sparrow’s leg gazing up at him, as if to confirm to himself that the human was still there. Sparrow ruffled his ear. He took a deep breath and ran his free hand over his head. He’d never really been vain before but he missed his hair. Guards had been required to have it shorn off and only days had passed since his escape. It was prickly now, more stubble than anything else but even that felt like a victory. One more thing that proved to him that he was free. 

“No use just sitting here worrying is there?” He muttered. He pushed himself off the bench and moved towards the gate. It was comforting to see familiar houses, the stalls in the alleyways and the sound of people going about a normal life. He was surprised that the Sherriff still remembered him, although given that the man owed his job to Sparrow it probably meant he paid more attention to him. At the turn of the lane heading towards his house, Sparrow stopped again. He could see the house from here, House of Goodwill as it was called. He’d never needed the house to be truthful more than he did now. A small part of him whispered that he didn’t need to go down there. He’d been gone for ten years, he could just keep walking towards the market and they’d never know. Never know how close he’d been. Change his name and let them think a new Hero had risen. He shook off the thought. Even if the Sherriff didn’t mention to Alex that he’d seen Sparrow, she was smart. More than one argument about his leaving so often had been resolved by the sheer fact that there were no others who held all the gifts. 

“Come on Sparrow,” He muttered to himself. “You weren’t a coward while you were in the Spire, you certainly aren’t going to be one now faced with your family.” He moved through the street but hesitated at the door. Did he knock, go straight in? What was the right thing to do after that long away? Apparently Sir Woof had become tired of his indecision as he let out one loud bark. Movement sounded in the house. 

“Woof, that you?” Alex’s voice was like a hit to the chest, leaving him standing like an idiot as she opened the door. Heartbeats passed as Alex took in the person at her door and recognition sank in. Her hand flew to her mouth. “You’re here, I thought you were dead.” Her hand dropped from her mouth, reaching towards him as if to check he was real, not just a ghost or a dream. 

“I’m sorry Alex. I never meant to be away for so long. I promise, I would never had gone if I had known.” She flinched slightly, pulling her hand back to her side as the apology rushed out of him. A second passed, then she stepped back gesturing for him to move in to the house. She turned towards the little oven that sat in the corner of the room, pulling the kettle down from hook next to it. Sparrow moved towards the table and sat. This felt so familiar, Alex making tea every time he returned from being away. Five years of marriage before he left had given them routines to fall back on when words failed. The silence continued until both were sat, cups of tea steaming in front of them. 

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting hugs and tears of joy upon my return but I was expecting more than just silence.” Sparrow said gently. He wasn’t going to say a part of him had been hoping for it. The bitter laugh he got in return was added to the list of unexpected things. 

“What were you expecting…? That I would just sit and wait happily for you to return? Never worrying, never grieving? Even you cannot be that arrogant.”

“I never expected that of you, you know I would never…”

“…Yes, you never would have gone if you’d known.” Alex interrupted. “But we both know, that in service of your quest…” She spat the words out, “There is nothing you wouldn’t do.” A tired smile crossed her face. “I’ve always known, the children and I came second. You were honest enough about it at the start of our relationship, that you would be gone for long periods of time as you tried to topple the tyrant.” Echoes of early conversations trickled through his mind. Alex teasing him for how the sentence was almost an alliteration. He’d been 18 and determined to avenge his sister but Alex had always taken his intensity about the topic and lightened it. He’d never know that this had been the consequence of that determination. His promise of a month before returning to the Guild hall suddenly rang through him coldly. A sigh brought him back to the conversation. “I suppose we had different ideas of what a long period of time is.” The anger seemed to drain out of her. 

“I am sorry Alex. I know I can’t change what’s happened and I can’t say I won’t disappoint you again because we both know that I will see this through to the end, but can we learn to move past this? I’m not expecting forgiveness straight out, but can you listen to the whole story and begin to accept that this was out of my control, that I tried to get home as soon as the possibility allowed it? Can I be allowed to make this up to you?” Alex stared at her cup for a long moment before glancing up at him.

“Alright, tell me then.” And so he did. He told her of the journey to Garth’s tower and how they’d missed the Will user by moments. He told her of the journey to Westcliffe, how the Bandits and Balverines had forced them to fight again and again. He told her about the Howling Halls and deal he made with Barnum to try and improve the area and make it an actual town instead of another bandit camp. He told her about the Crucible and the men who commentated it, about the argument that occurred between them and Hammer before he’d been allowed to enter and how weird it had been to fight without Sir Woof after so long of fighting with a dog by his side. He told her about the new name he had earned and about how he actually quite liked this one. This was the only time she interrupted.

“Lionheart. Sounds brave, it’s a good name. Better than some of the others you earnt over the years.” They had both laughed at that. Some of the names he’d earnt had been ridiculous. He told her about the goodbye’s he said on the dock, the promise he’d made both Theresa and Hammer make, to look after Alex and the children, before he’d taken off all his equipment, ruffled Woof’s fur and got on the boat. He paused for a while before describing the Spire, the constant beat in the back of his head and what it had been like to look up and see Lucian standing there. That if he’d had any of his weapons, this quest could have ended there and then. He’d probably died there and then though as the guards would have turned on him. He spoke in quiet tones about waking up with the collar on and how the guard and then the commandant had tried to break him. At this point he reached in his bag and pulled out the two broken halves of the collar and placed them on the table so that Alex could see them. He spoke about Bob and how the memories had slipped away through the years until Bob had been unable to remember his family. He spoke about his own memories and how they had begun to feel so distant, he wasn’t sure if he had lost memories or not. And then Garth, how he had spoken telepathically, cautioning him to be patient. He told her about the horrors of the Spire, how every good action had cost him. Feeding prisoners and then refusing to kill Bob. Finally he told her about the last day, finding the dead guard and gaining weapons and Garth breaking the collar. Of the fight back to the boat and the joy of watching the Spire grow smaller and smaller as they moved further away. Of arriving on the docks to be greeted by Sir Woof and Theresa and the conversation between her and Garth. 

“I stopped in at the Inn in Rookridge to see Hammer, then travelled back here. And here I am.” He finished. Silence met the statement as Alex took in everything he’d been through. Her anger seemed so petty now, she should have known better, should have believed that Sparrow was capable of amazing things. That she should have believed Theresa and Hammer when they told her that Sparrow was still alive, out of reach from letter or message but alive. But as people stopped asking when he would return and began to look at their family with pity and sadness, she’d allowed herself to believe that maybe he wouldn’t return. That maybe this adventure had been too much. She felt foolish. The cup being removed from her grip jolted her out of her thoughts as Sparrow moved towards the kettle, placing it back upon the heat. The silence between them felt almost uncomfortable, a consequence of time apart. Sparrow placed a full cup in front of her and sat back down. 

“I admit, I expected the children to be back by now.” Alex wished her cup wasn’t full. That she’d been able to get up, move away from the table, anything that would allow her not be looking at Sparrow when she said this. 

“They’re away for another week. They’ve gone to visit family in Oakfield. We weren’t really expecting you to come knocking at the door.” She said, slightly hysterically. Sparrow could have laughed. His children had been closer then he knew when he’d arrived back from the Spire. A thought flickered through his mind. 

“I though your family lived here in Bowerstone, I didn’t know you had family there as well.”

“I don’t.” Came the low reply. 

“Then who are they visiting?” 

“You have to understand… I thought you were dead. The first few years it was easy to just say you were gone on your adventure when people asked but as time passed and you didn’t come home…no word no nothing…” Alex stood at this and began to pace back and forth in front of the table. “I understand now why there wasn’t, but you have to see what I thought had happened. The only conclusion I could draw was that you were gone. That this search for revenge had killed you.” Her voice had begun to pick up speed as she spoke, one word almost tripping over the other. “And…and he was nice and he paid attention to the children, taught them things…” She collapsed onto the chair as if all the energy in her had suddenly run out. Her mouth opened and closed on words that never made it out loud as she tried to find a way to explain. But she didn’t have to.

“You found someone new. You moved on.” Sparrow said quietly. She nodded. “What’s his name?”

“Harry, he works in the potion shop in the market.”

“Is that how you met?” She smiled.

“No, funnily enough he came to find you. He’d been concerned that you hadn’t been by in a while and wanted to check on you. I suppose that’s what happens when you spend that much money there. He stayed to talk and he’d come visit every couple of weeks or so at first. It grew form there.” So nothing like their courtship and marriage. 

“Does he treat you well, you and the children?” A second nod. “That’s all I can ask I suppose.” Alex’s head shot up.

“You’re not angry?”

“Oh I’m fuming but more at myself, at life than at you, I think. You said it yourself, everyone thought I was dead. I’d given you no reason to believe I was still alive so I can’t fault you for moving on. I think, if we’re both honest we’d admit that this life would never have worked in the long run. I’m gone for months at a time, with you never knowing when I’ll return. If he gives you the stability and love that I can’t, then you need to take it. For yourself, for the children.” He paused for a moment thinking. “Did you have me officially declared dead?”

“Yes about two years ago. Everything in your name was given to me. The deeds to the houses and the shops. Are you planning to take them all back?” A part of him wanted to be spiteful, to deny her access to the money that only came her way because of him. To make her have to survive on whatever this new man earnt. But he couldn’t do that. Like he’d told her, he couldn’t fault her for moving on when all evidence told her he was dead, nor could he deny his children the money that he earnt. 

“Not all of it and not right now. When are the children coming home?” 

“Eight or nine days from now depending how well the journey home goes.”

“That gives me time to get things sorted then. Since Sparrow is dead, maybe it’s time to let Lionheart have a go. That way, you remain my widow getting all the money from my properties till I can buy some of them back and we’re both free to move on with our lives.” Sparrow prided himself on sounding so calm about this. It was good in a way that Harry wasn’t here, he may not have been responsible for any injury the man sustained otherwise but the idea that he had to wait yet another 8 days to see his children rankled. The rational part of his mind took over reminding him he waited 10 years to see them what was 8 more days. 

“What are you going to do now, you could stay here for the night if you like.” Sparrow gave a bitter laugh.

“I think it would be best for all of us if I didn’t take you up on that offer. We want people to remain thinking I’m dead, don’t we. First I’m going to have a conversation with the Sherriff, then I’ll get a room at the inn in town and get very drunk, I’ll catch a carriage to Westcliff in the morning.”

“Westcliffe?” Alex questioned. “Why Westcliffe?”

“Because if I’m very lucky, there should be a large amount of money waiting for me there. I’ll be back in nine days.” And with this he stood and walk out of the place he had once called home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sparrow, but it never made sense to me that your spouse was just waiting for you after 10 years with only a strange blind lady to tell them that you were still alive. Its also quite nice not to have to use the their script as I did in the last chapter, I forget how annoying it is to have to transcribe large amounts of text.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparrow makes it to Westcliff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long. Life got in the way and killed all desire to write and I struggled with this chapter. I don't like it but I'm posting it so I can move forward with the story. I may at some point go back and re-write this. As always, comments would be greatly appreciated, even if its just to tell me someone is still reading this.

Sparrow groaned, bracing himself as the carriage jolted over a bump in the road. Travelling to Westcliff by carriage had seemed such a good idea this morning, hangover well and truly having established itself. 11 hours by carriage instead of a three day walk had seemed the much better deal to his pounding head, but now, four hours in, he was starting to regret it. His stomach rolled with every jostle of the carriage and every bump in the road sent more spikes of pain through his head. So much for his idea of sleeping this off. The night had started so well. His conversation with the Sherriff had gone better then expected, the man understanding the position that Sparrow now found himself in and agreeing to not mention his return. The Sherriff had swapped to the new name almost immediately. Sparrow doubted that everyone would be so accommodating, he couldn’t even adjust to the idea in his own head. He’d left Old Town and headed to the market. 

It had surprised him just how little the town had changed. He’d expected the ten years to change it, for it to have grown in his absence but it looked the same as ever. Same shops, same houses, same people. When does a lack of change stop being reassuring and just indicate stagnation, he wondered to himself. Vowing to try and help the town improve if he ever got the money to do so, he started by heading to the Inn. The Cow and Corset was not his favourite place, but the alcohol was cheap and the rooms were clean and right then, that had been all that concerned him. He’d been partway through his first drink, debating whether to get food there or see if the stalls had anything worth buying when he’d heard a familiar voice at the bar. Phillip had been the book store owner when Sparrow had arrived in Bowerstone and they’d become friends over the years once Phillip had worked up the courage to ask the young adventure where he was getting all the books from. From there, they’d progressed to drinks at the Cow and Corset, discussing the state of the world and whether The Yellow Fairy or the Tenbrous was the better drink. They’d built up a group as other began to join the conversation, or as in the case of one poor traveller, had been forced to join the group after a particularly heated conversation had spilled over on to his table and then his beer had followed. Sparrow had brought him another to make it up to him and then later, had taken him up to his room and made it up to him in other ways. Charles had remained part of the group past the point when Sparrow had married, limiting the times he spent in the Inn. Sparrow hadn’t meant to catch Phillip’s attention, had kept to his seat at the back of the Inn trying to be inconspicuous but the man had always had a sense for trouble and had come over the minute he turned round to see Sparrow sitting in the corner. He sat down as if no time had passed from their last discussion.

“You look good, for a dead guy.” The night had progressed from there. He’d given Phillip the short version of the past decade and tried to convince the man to stop calling him Sparrow. It had worked to begin with but as night progressed and the group of people grown, the amount of alcohol had increased. With it, all attempts at becoming Lionheart had failed utterly. He was Sparrow again, Sparrow before the constant fighting and traveling had worn him down. Sparrow before responsibility had taken over, before the horrors of the Spire and the consequences of having Hero blood had taken hold. So he’d drank and stumbled into bed with the early hours of the morning. He’d made it the coach house with only moments to spare. He groaned again, earning a sympathetic laugh from his fellow passenger. 

“Late night hmm?” They questioned. Sparrow nodded, quickly regretting the movement. They held out a flask. “Here, get that down you, it’ll help.” Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Sparrow took the flask, gulping down a generous swallow. He wasn’t sure what was in it but the effects kicked in immediately, the pounding in his head and the swirling in his stomach abating. He muttered his thanks as he handed back the flask. “So what takes you to Westcliffe? Going to test your strength in the Crucible?” Sparrow shook his head.

“Trying to find an old acquaintance. Yourself?” 

“Ah going to meet the family there, I’m a day late for our holiday.”

“You’re holidaying in Westcliffe?” Sparrow queried. “Isn’t it still a bandit town?”

“A bandit town? It’s not been a bandit town in nearly a decade. The crucible and the shooting range are still there but its far more family friendly.” 

“Is that so…” It seemed like something had changed in the last ten years and apparently for the better. Sparrow merely hoped that his 5,000 gold was ready to be paid back. True to the word of his fellow companion, Westcliffe was barely recognisable. Shops lined the pathway and a blacksmith and pub sat near the top of the hill, as the carriage headed up the coach house. There were no bandits, just regular people and even guards and a Sherriff. This was the change that Sparrow had wanted to see. Stepping out of the coach, he was greeted by a familiar voice. 

“Well if it isn’t my old business partner! I thought I’d never see you again. What a wonderful surprise. And you couldn’t come at a better moment. Have you ever seen such a marvellous transformation?” Sparrow had to admit he was impressed, he hadn’t really expected anything like this when he’d lent Barnum the money but he was happy to hear that Barnum had given up the thesaurus. “But enough of that. I have a very healthy sum of gold for you. Your gold, plus ten years of investment. And my heartfelt thanks.” 15,000 gold pieces. He now had 15,000 gold pieces. He wondered down the hill in a daze. He’d never expected that much. Admittedly, it wouldn’t get him much but it would get him at least a few stalls, enough to get a regular inflow of gold again. Regular gold meant potions could be brought and weapons upgraded, a house could be saved up for. He might spend the majority of his time travelling but there was something to be said for coming back to a place you knew was yours. He didn’t really have an explanation for buying other houses other than the influx of cash into the towns and the security that if his family ever fell on hard times, the houses could be sold to help. Or that was what he was telling himself. But first a new name was needed. It seemed fitting, to buy the title here, where he’d earnt the right to call himself Lionheart and where Sparrow had died. He’d been recruit 273 from the moment he’d woken up in the Spire till Garth had broken his collar. It was hard to go back to a name that no longer fit. Staring at the piece of paper that the town crier gave him, Lionheart felt something slip into place. Sparrow would not be forgotten but he had died with all the others in the Spire. Lionheart would finish this journey and end find justice for all who had fallen under Lucien’s madness.


End file.
